


I'll Go Anywhere You Want Me

by The_Secret_Life_Of_Tea



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, Nonbinary Doctor, Other, Sickfic, autism headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Secret_Life_Of_Tea/pseuds/The_Secret_Life_Of_Tea
Summary: Ten has come down its an illness and The Master doesn't understand feelings.





	I'll Go Anywhere You Want Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natalunasans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalunasans/gifts).



> Natalunasans is having a weird day and also missed my old DW fics, so HERE YA GO FRIEND. <3 Nonbinary Doctor headcanon (practically canon now!) is from her lovely series called Ownership Enough. The series is brilliant and contains some of my fave DW fics in the universe, so go check it out!

Ten was curled up in bed, duvet pulled firmly over his head as The Master bustled in. He took in the sight in front of him, and for the umpteenth time that morning, wondered why he was travelling with such a whining child. 

“Get that silly cover off your face,” the Master sighed, coming over and ripping it off when The Doctor wouldn't comply. They were paler than the inside of a pear and twice as slick, sweat dripping down their forehead. The Master’s nose wrinkled. 

Ten rolled away from them painfully. Their mind was a roiling static of sick and hurt and nothing the Master said was really cutting through the swathes of fog brought on by fever. They peered into his eyes-- something they didn’t like to do very often, due to the searing discomfort it usually brought. 

Something urgent in the Doctor’s gaze made the Master’s hands still from smoothing a cloth over their chilled-hot brow. “What?” 

They didn’t answer, just took his hand in both of theirs. 

The Master peered down at their interlocked hands, brow furrowed. “I don’t…”

They smiled at him-- such a soft, warm smile!-- and The Master’s hearts fell from some shelf in his chest. 

“You’re just feverish,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away, and left the room blushing.


End file.
